


Query Selector

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Iruma Miu Being Iruma Miu, Just A Lot Of It, Post-Canon, Swearing, pull yourself together, thanks miu, they are dumb and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 15:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: “I have come to be curious about another thing,” Kiibo says as he parts the kitchen curtain and peers out, blue eyes glowing inquisitive. “Since we’re living together like this, aren’t we kind of like a married couple?”Miu sprays her coffee all over the table.





	Query Selector

**Author's Note:**

> minor spoilers for miu & kiibo’s interactions in talent development plan (v3 bonus mode) if you squint!

One of the biggest benefits to having Miu around – not counting technical maintenance of course, because that is a field in which she remains consistently undefeated – is that she always has an answer for everything.

Now, here’s the disclaimer: the validity of the answers she gives is indeed questionable and by no means scientifically accurate.

For what it’s worth, however, Kiibo finds them invaluable. Nobody he knows can answer questions quite like she can. With the passion —the proudness! The burning enthusiasm that lights her every movement, the way she never tires of answering Kiibo’s questions no matter how many there are or how late it’s gotten or how peculiar it may be.

Kiibo likes listening to Miu, because she has something to say about everything.

He brings questions to her with the delight and thrill of learning more (and more and more, she knows so _much_ ) — whether it be about the world and its mechanics! Or interactions between people, often coupled with examining the subtle nuances that come with being human, which he is understandably not.

So, naturally, he brings his latest curiosity to her as she’s tinkering with her latest project with a long, curling jungle of straws sticking out of her mouth, plunged indelicately into three different technicolor cans of coffee.

“Miu?” He calls gently, as to not startle her. He’s learned that from last time, when she ended up dropping a bunch of parts on her feet and swearing up a storm. There is still a dent in the wall where she threw her wrench. They’ve elected to cover it up with a sheet instead of fixing it.

“Mmhm?” She hums in response, voice muffled by the straws.

“I have come to be curious about another thing,” Kiibo says as he parts the kitchen curtain and peers out, blue eyes glowing inquisitive. “Since we’re living together like this, aren’t we kind of like a married couple?”

Miu sprays her coffee all over the table.

* * *

It’s a perfectly innocent question, Kiibo thinks, as he jumps into action to grab washcloths and mops and a bucket of water only for Miu to choose to wipe up the mess with her sleeve.

In urgency, he exclaims, “Miu, stop that! You’re going to stain your shirt!”

It’s for her sake, more than his own understanding — he’s learnt that stains aren’t regarded pleasantly, is all; it is like dust that builds in your processors when you don’t clean them out for an extended period of times. Not entirely detrimental, but not helpful, either.

Miu rolls her eyes.

“What a damn shame! Guess I gotta take it off then,” Her fingers reach for the hem but Kiibo screams and stops her.

“No! Nonono, don’t strip here! People will see you through the windows!”

“Well, they can enjoy the fuckin’ show!” She laughs, but loosens her grip, arms looping around Kiibo’s neck. “ _Marriage_ , Kiibs? Really? If we were getting married, you should’ve said something. I would have changed outta my pajamas.”

“Wh-what? But we’re not actually—” Kiibo feels his internal drives heating up embarrassingly quickly. Then, he realizes. “Oh, it’s a joke! You’re teasing me!”

“Sure am,” Miu replies without malice. “Hey, you’re getting better with sarcasm now. Make me fuckin’ proud, babe.” She smooches him lightly on the nose, and despite his rising temperature, he freezes.

“I cannot tell whether that was meant to be patronizing or not.” Kiibo tells her honestly.

“It’s not.” She says firmly. If there is one thing Miu doesn’t do, it’s lie to his face.

He relaxes. “Can you do it again?”

She doesn’t hesitate, and her lips smack loudly against his nose, making him giggle. The sensors on his face are muted as to not zap her accidentally, light static unavoidable of course, but he can feel the force of her kisses just as well.

“I’m never going to get used to that. That’s so weird.” Kiibo confesses, touching the spot she kissed. Luckily, she’s not wearing lipstick – she always seems to happily ‘forget’ to inform him when she leaves lipstick stains all over his face. But that’s just how Miu is, and even though he gets embarrassed, he’s learned to appreciate it.

“You’re so weird.” Miu retorts, and her gaze is highly fond. He smiles.

“However, you are the weirdest,” he says all too proudly because he knows it will make her laugh.

“Excuse me! Fuckin’ rude, take that back!” Miu smacks him on the chest plate, but a grin is pulling at her lips. There’s a pliancy to her features that he envies sometimes, even though he shouldn’t. Miu always says he’s perfect just the way he is.

“Sorry.” He says. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You better not have!” She grins wider, wrapping her arms exuberantly around him and nuzzling into his chest. “Oh man, I’ve been such a good influence on you! Hoo boy, am I one sexy prodigy with only the best ideas ever!”

“Are you sure about that,” He asks flatly.

“Yes! I _am_ the gorgeous girl genius, after all! And one day, I’m gonna take over the fuckin’ world!”

When she laughs – sharp and loud – he laughs with her, the vibrations of her laughter too infectious to fight, and his sarcastic, “I’m sure you will,” is only met by an explosion of blonde in his arms, demanding that he carry her to her throne (the armchair) so that she can show him just how she’s going to achieve world domination.

Of course, Kiibo is many things but he isn’t _strong_ , so he can’t carry her more than a step before dropping her but Miu only cackles at him again. She demands he bring her a portable throne instead, and he’s forced to parade into the living room pushing the pink chair with the sparkly wheels for her for that very purpose, and is rewarded with a smooch on his cheek.

It’s just so terribly stupid but he loves her all the same.

“You know, Miu, I believe you really do have what it takes to conquer the world,” he muses in complete seriousness.

She looks stunned, for a moment, before her expression turns into her usual haughty, catlike smirk. “Aww babe, you believe in me? Gross.”

“I do.” He says. “You also have what it takes to destroy the world though, so I suppose you’re going to have to take your pick.”

“Hah-haha! I guess the world’s just gonna have to find out what this genius is made of, then!” She snorts, sprawling out on her wheelie chair and wheeling herself into the wall. “Ow! Fuck you, wall!”

“Miu!” He shrieks in a flurry of panic. “Are you okay!?”

* * *

As a default, Kiibo’s memory banks don’t clear unless he personally chooses to delete the information stored within them, but, too distracted by the mess Miu keeps insisting on making through every inch of the house, his initial question doesn’t resurface in his mind until dinner.

As with the usual days Miu spends working incessantly, he’s setting down a plate of takeout he’s learnt to order by non-physical heart — apparently Miu likes fried rice, and he’s once heard the phrase “all kids like fried rice” on television, so it makes him giggle every time — when Miu leans in to peck his cheek as she always does and blinks, suddenly, as if coming to a realization.

“We _are_ kinda like a married couple, aren’t we?” She asks, pulling back with wide eyes.

Kiibo nods hesitantly. He wouldn’t know. All he knows is that he can order fried rice and Miu will get it all over the floor using that Eat-While-You-Work invention of hers which is altogether quite superfluous and unnecessary.

The ‘Eat-While-You-Sleep’ is worse, but there are some things Kiibo chooses tactically not to say out loud.

“Huh.” Miu says, oblivious to the thoughts he keeps to himself. “That’s cute as shit.”

“Is marriage supposed to be ‘cute’?” Kiibo questions. “I was under the impression that it was simply a union between people.”

“Yeah! But!” She shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth as she scrambles to piece her next sentence together. “It’s like, you’re thinking of puppy cute and shit, right?”

He nods. “Yes, puppies are cute.”

“Well, people find couples cute in a different way!” The spoon hangs from her mouth as she quickly secures metal chassis of her latest project and puts the plate of rice on top of it. “Like uh, when you see people holding hands, you might think that hey, that’s pretty fuckin’ nice, ay?”

“Ah, so, in an endearing way?”

“Exactly!” She grins. “You’re just a super mega awesome smart robot, aren’t ya!”

Kiibo feels himself warm in the equivalent of blushing, a brief static flickering behind the screen of his eyes, tingling electric. “Of course I am! Even as a robot of average intelligence, I am a fast learner!”

“And I’m a great teacher!” Miu declares through a mouthful of rice. “Go, me!”

“I really do appreciate it,” he replies earnestly, bringing his palm to his chest. “I only hope to be one of the better robots overall, even if I may not be the best.”

“Oh, psh, I know you’re the best, ‘cause I’m the best and everyone else can suck it,” Miu huffs. “So you’re not allowed to say bad things about yourself!”

“But Miu, this is not self-deprecating speech, logically speaking, I am still—”

“Screw logic! My genius logic says you’re the best so you’re the best, got it?! And that’s taking into account everything that rat bastard Kokichi says about you, too!”

His cooling fans whir as he heats up again.

“... thank you, Miu.”

“Hah-haha! Don’t mention it! I always have your back…” She giggles to herself, “...side. You know, for a robot, you have a pretty sweet ass.”

“ _Miu!_ How dare you!”

“What, babe, are you offended about the robot comment or the ass comment, you gotta be specific!” Miu flicks him in the forehead. “For the record, I love both your robotness _and_ your butt, even though my butt is better.”

“I don’t know what to say to you sometimes,” he sighs, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Compliment me then! Admit I have a nice ass!”

“I-I admittedly don’t understand the typical conventions of beauty like that, exactly,” he stammers, unable to look her in the eye. “B-but I suppose…? It’s a… healthy bottom?”

“Aww, Kiibs!” She cackles, smooshing him against her cheek. “You’re such a sweetheart! Yes, I _will_ marry you!”

“W-w-what?”

“Not now, obviously! We need a bit of good ol’ financial stability,” she grins, and he feels it. “But I’ll work my nice and healthy ass off and then we can have a fuckin’ flawless wedding!”

“Oh, b-but Miu, this is all so fast—”

“Yes, baby, and that’s how I know you like it,” she laughs, thrilled by her own innuendo, yet pulling back so innocently to boop her finger to his nose. “I’m! Just! Kidding! About the wedding, though! These things take time, I get it, I’m just droppin’ ya a very obvious hint, now that you’ve gotten me in the mood…”

“I-I see…!” He beams back up at her. “Then allow me to do some more research first!”

“Do it! Do what your precious little robot heart desires!”

* * *

He asks Shuuichi, naturally, his second point of contact when it comes to learning about the world – and the detective stammers terribly through an explanation of marriage and getting married, before he inevitably inquires, “Is this about you and Iruma-san? You two have been together for a while, right?”

“Indeed! Ever since we graduated!” Kiibo exclaims, watching as Shuuichi attempts to toss his paper cup into the bin and fails miserably. He sighs before getting up and placing it in proper. “Of course, like you’ve said, there’s no instruction manual for it, but… Miu makes me happy. I don’t know anyone quite like her. I wouldn’t mind spending our lives together for as long as it is possible.”

Saihara chuckles at that. “Well, she’s certainly one-of-a-kind…” He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I don’t think this is a decision I can make for you, Kiibo. All I can do is tell you how it works. The decision is one that you and Iruma-san have to make together.”

“She has said that she wants to,” he offers. “And so do I. Nothing you have said to me has changed that. She is very important to me, and even if marriage itself is not necessary, I want to show her that I appreciate her and would very much like to stay with her if she’d have me.”

“Oh, that’s… really nice, actually,” Saihara’s hand comes up over his mouth, not quite surprised, more a pleased astonishment. Kiibo feels a little embarrassed for having blurted out his feelings like that, but because it is Saihara and he trusts Saihara not to laugh at him, he doesn’t particularly mind.

“I’m happy for you guys,” The detective says with a smile, “Then I guess it’s just a matter of affording it, isn’t it?”

Kiibo nods, interlacing his hands. “Marriages are traditionally expensive, it seems…”

Saihara seems to come to a quick revelation. “Wait! But we – we have enough connections that we might just be able to make it work! I’m sure Akamatsu-san would be overjoyed to play at your wedding, and Shirogane-san is a skilled seamstress you could ask about outfits.” He starts counting the points on his fingers. “Amami-kun would know of some beautiful places you could consider holding it, and Toujou-san is a skilled cook who most likely knows others…”

“Ah! You’re right!” Kiibo exclaims. “And I’ve seen a marriage video with these children in white dresses holding flowers! Could Yumeno-san and Ouma-kun do that?”

Saihara giggles, seeming entertained by the thought. “I mean… I suppose you can do a Western wedding, if you like. You might want to consult Shinguuji-kun on that one, he’s surely studied wedding customs in the past. On that note, Gokuhara-kun might be able to assist you with flowers, too, he’s cultivated an amazing garden for his research.”

“Thank you, genuinely, Saihara-kun,” Kiibo says and he means it. “I will do my best to prepare for this occasion, and call upon our old classmates’ for assistance when required. However, I presume this occurs post-engagement, unless I am incorrect?”

“Oh, right, you haven’t proposed,” Saihara blinks, hands finding his pockets again. “I had it in my mind that you were already engaged, for some reason.”

Kiibo grins, a giddy feeling thrumming through his system at the words. “Are we really that much like a married couple…?”

Saihara laughs, “A little.”

* * *

With the act of proposal in mind, Kiibo turns Saihara’s explanations over and over, and he doesn’t realize he’s been lost in thought until Miu swings an arm around his shoulder and asks, “What’s my pretty diamond thinking so hard about right now?” She taps him on the forehead. “You’re gonna be the first robot in the world with frown lines if you keep that up.”

He ducks his head bashfully, “Miu, you haven’t called me diamond since high school.”

She beams at him. “Heh! Guess who found the old yearbooks!”

“Oh, oh no,” he says.

“Oh-ho-ho, yes!” She slips away from him to dive under the couch and pulls out three thick hardcover books, tossing them into his lap. Then, she clambers over the back of the couch and snuggles up to his side. “Kiibs, we were such little babies back then, look at this,” she flicks open to a bookmarked page, and sure enough, she’d found photos of them from their first year of high school, Kiibo still with his first factory haircut and Miu very evidently having not brushed her hair.

“Oh no,” Kiibo says again. “And we were so confident, too.”

“We were so dumb!”

“But always together,” he points out. In all the pictures so far, they seemed to be standing near each other – sometimes unaware of the fact, but what with how much they both stood out, it became rather plain to see.

“Ugh, listen,” Miu rests her cheek on his shoulder. “I had the biggest crush on you for forever, but your stupid ass kept going ‘oh, Miu’s being so nice and friendly’ like I was the fuckin’ epitome of honey and roses all the time and not a total flaming dumpster fire to literally everyone that wasn’t you.”

“I– I acknowledged that you were crude, as well!”

“Yeah, but, I absolutely explicitly yelled ‘Kiibo, I love you!’ across the courtyard and all you said was ‘what?’, so who’s the real dumbass here?”

“I didn’t know you meant it like _that_!” He protests. “And then you ran away screaming ‘ha-ha nothing’!”

“Shit man, I was embarrassed, okay!?”

“So was I!”

“Why were _you_ embarrassed, dumbo?!”

“You just shouted ‘I love you’ across the courtyard! In front of everyone! Why wouldn’t I have been embarrassed?!”

“Well, you didn’t understand any of my other advances!”

“... there were other advances?”

Miu snorts. Kiibo can feel his face flushing and he presses his mouth plates together as she erupts into a fit of laughter.

“Don’t laugh! Miu! Miu, stop!”

“I’m actually dating an idiot,” she snickers, burying her face into his neck. “Oh my god. I have all the fucking brain cells in this relationship.”

“That’s a given, anyway!” Kiibo argues, cradling her closer to his chest and allowing her ecstatic energy to engulf him. “I’m a robot, so I don’t have brain cells!”

“W– why do you– sound so proud of yourself–?” Miu tries to say between bursts of giggles. “You are the biggest dork I know–!”

He squeezes her as tight as he can, because he knows she likes it and because it’ll make her stop talking. As predicted, Miu’s ears go pink and she hugs him back closely, letting the yearbooks fall to the floor as she lands herself in his lap.

“I love you, Miu,” he says, unable to hide the smugness in his voice at his clearly fail proof strategy to gain the upper hand.

“Ugh, love you too,” Miu grumbles, kissing him chastely. “Don’t let go of me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiles at her, and leans in to kiss her again.

* * *

Kiibo brings his newfound curiosity to Miu when she’s tinkering again – same set-up of coffee cans (now they’re up to five cans, so he’s a little worried, but he’ll save the worrying for later, adding it to his queued tasks which also include finally looking at that dent in the wall, maybe) – and the same risk of her spewing it everywhere, he notes with alarm.

“Miu?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Can you come off the coffee for a moment? I want to ask you something.”

“You make a tough ask, babe,” she pulls the rainbow straws from her mouth and adjusts the goggles on her head. “What’s so important that I can’t be sippin’? Did you break a leg? Want maintenance?” She raises a wrench and grins. “Want me to take a good, deep look inside you?”

“No, not that. It’s just… how should I say this, I have come to be curious about another thing,” Kiibo says, as evenly as he can. He has never once been ungrateful for being a robot, and without having to sweat or shake, he’s ever more thrilled.

“Well?” Miu prompts, spinning the wrench between her fingers. “Spit it out. You know I’m free whenever you need me.”

“Iruma Miu,” he starts, and on second thought, he’s definitely shaking but in a good way! Oh god, he’s shaking, he’s shaking really badly– can she tell? Can he vibrate at a frequency higher than the human perception, or– should he take a deep breath– what should he do, he doesn’t have the lungs to take a breath! Does he need to breathe? Oh, god, does he need to breathe?

Miu looks like a deer in headlights, raising both hands in surrender. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it.”

“No– no, you didn’t do anything! Nothing happened!” He stammers, “It’s just– um, wait, did something happen?”

“Nope! Not a thing! Nothing at all!” Miu replies far too quickly, waving him off. “What’s your question, hotcakes? Don’t keep me waiting!”

He takes a big, hypothetical breath.

“Iruma Miu, w–will you marry me?!”

* * *

If the formula for force is mass times acceleration, then Miu must find some way to transcend that because she moves so fast he feels her collide with him before he sees her, and they both land on the floor with a frenzied crash.

Luckily, he catches most of her weight, and even luckier, he does not need to breathe, because the impact of her flying hug would have knocked all the air out of him and then some – but he’s so happy to see her delight that he thinks he might not have minded either way.

“Yes, you absolute doofus!” She exclaims, batting at his chest plate. “There’s no way in hell I’d say ‘no’ and you know that! You just wanted to! Throw me off guard!” She grabs his face. “You! I fuckin’ love you!”

Kiibo beams. “I love you, too!”

And he does, he does, he does.


End file.
